Part 2: Hell Week
PART 2: Hell Week
I cried myself to sleep that night. There was nothing I could do, I was a child out of my element in a world I didn't understand.
I had tried to call my mom on the phone they put in my bedroom, but all I got was an answering machine that spouted utterly useless Orwellian bullshit. To my horror, I inspected the back of the phone to find there wasn't even a cord. Just a cheap prop. They had even gone so far as to nail it down to the shelf.
I slept like shit, bolting up in bed at the slightest sound. I had hazy dreams about a legion of half-animal, half-man shadows busting through my door in the middle of the night and doing unspeakable things.
Nobody came for me.
The next day, I headed back to Nook's. In the sobering light of morning, my thought was that I would have to come up with a plan to escape, but until then I should lie low, not make a scene. Plus, I was starving and there was no cafeteria or food hall on the entire grounds, just a few orange trees for sustenance.
I asked Nook about food and payment. Nook didn't give a fuck. All he worried about was making sure I was constantly working from sun-up to sun-down.
Over the next week, I was sent on all variety of errands for Tom and delivered shit to every resident in camp, who all had nice, well-furnished homes, though I could never figure out what they did during the day. Occasionally, I'd see them randomly roaming the grounds like zombies, but in general they stayed locked up in their houses.
One day, Nook made a fatal mistake.
He asked me to send a sales flier to a resident in town and gave me a blank envelope. This was my chance. I was going to get a message out to my mom. With any luck, the pelican-woman wouldn't pay close attention to the address, thinking it was a sales flier from Tom Nook. I took his stationary and scribbled out a brief but clear message.
Clutching the letter in my clammy palms, I forked it over for delivery, sweat cliffhanging from my brow. All I could do now was wait.
I didn't have to wait long. To my surprise a letter was sitting in my mailbox that evening. From my mom. The very same day.
What's this, a fucking pun?! I beg for food and she sends me an acorn? Is this some kind of sick joke… oh no. OH FUCK NO. My mom never got my letter and she never will. She didn't write this shit! In one instant all my hopes are shattered and now… they know that I know. I fall into a fog of despair and curl up into my bed hoping to die. But the next day morning comes and hunger drives me from my misery.
Nook claims he'll pay me for all this work I've been doing but I haven't seen a dime from it. He just gives me more and more errands while the residents mock me.
How does he expect me to pay off this debt? The answer is simple: he doesn't.
Days go by.
We get a new resident in town named Pate, and if you're thinking he's named after a food made from his own "species" you're right. Nook orders me to deliver a massive throw rug to the toupee-wearing duck-man and I begrudgingly haul it over.
Pate shares a disturbing bit of dialog with me and then something odd happens. I think he meant to call me a "cracker", but when I get home that evening he has shipped a gas stove to my shack. With winter coming on, it may be the only thing that keeps me alive. Is it possible I've made a friend in this fucked up place? I set it up next to my candle. Are things finally looking up?
The seeds of a plan begin to come together. It's risky, but I've got to take any chance I get. That day while Nook's distracted I steal some paper from his shop. Tonight I'll send Pate a letter explaining my situation and begging for his help. Since he's new around here maybe Nook hasn't already gotten to him. That evening I slip a thin envelope under the mallard's door. I toss and turn all night.
The next day I'm heading back from a job when I see Pate walking zombie-like back to his house. He looks like he just came from Nook's. I cautiously approach him, unsure of how to broach the subject. "Hi", I say.
I should know better by now. Pate's made a scene and others are starting to notice. Out of the corner of my eye I see the mayor gesturing to me as Pate hurries away. Timidly I meet him.
And that's when I know what needs to be done. This isn't the mayor's work, or the residents or the cab driver. This show's being run by Tom Nook. And the only way I'm getting out of here is on my own.